


Love the legend, fall in love with the man.

by Dkpetersen26



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire, game of thrones
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:49:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7558969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dkpetersen26/pseuds/Dkpetersen26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Each major house has powers connected to their house sigils and those of their parents. R+L=J</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Are you sure this is wise, wolf?" Jon spat a spark at an insect flying around his head. "Roses have thorns and these are no different."

"He who fears the thorn should not seek to grasp the rose." Robb snapped. "Besides, the roses have power and influence that we need to finish the lions for their sins. If we have to bleed to gain their support, bleed we shall." 

"Surely we can find another--" Robb grabbed the black-adorned dragon by the throat, pinning him to a tree. Fangs sprang from his gums. "If you do not wish to be here, dragon, you can go at any time. I will not miss this chance to avenge my father. There is no other choice." 

Jon blew smoke at him, making him lose his grip. "He was my father as much as he was yours, fishson. I will see our revenge through, with fire and blood." A tentacle reached out and draped itself across his shoulders.

"Stop fighting, you two. I didn't tear myself from the commoner whore just to babysit." Theon drawled from the tree above. "Behave or I might just change my mind and leave."

"You shouldn't be bedding common whores when you could be making yourself useful, Greyjoy." Robb sighed. "I suspect I may have to make a marriage accord, if the rumors about the fat rose's ambitions are indeed true." 

Theon tilted his head slightly. "How is it any different from Jon and that fire girl? She has no godly blood in her yet she warms his bed quite frequently." 

"The difference, squid, is that Ygritte does not need coin to coerce her beneath the sheets, unlike somebody else I know." Jon leapt up and wrenched him out of the tree by the wrist, dumping him unceremoniously onto the ground. "Now keep your mouth shut." 

Greyjoy examined his arm. It had been snapped and bent in an unnatural way by the impact. His bones cracked and grated as they moved themselves back into place without spilling a single drop of blood. "We'll see about that." He aimed at Jon and was about to send a barage of ink at him when both of them were knocked over by a torrent of water erupting from Robb's hands.

"Enough." Robb growled. His teeth were unhumanly long, his face was more hairy and his eyes had turned a lupine yellow."I have enough to deal with without you two trying to kill each other constantly. Cut it out now or so help--" He sniffed and turned his head sharply, his face already returning to its natural state. "I was under the impression we were meeting with the Queen of Thorns." He called out.

"You will be. I just wanted to get the measure of my soon-to-be mate." A young woman stepped out of the shadows. "You are the Young Wolf, are you not?" 

Robb was almost speechless. She was beautiful. Brown hair tumbling down small, feminine shoulders, framing big brown eyes, a small, impish nose, rosy cheeks and lips in the shape of a small smirk. "Yes, I--"

Theon pushed him out of the way. "He's Robb Stark, the sour brooding bugger is Jon Snow and I'm The--" Tendrils of brambles and thorns snapped off the ground and latched themselves around him, cutting into his skin. Theon gave a muted scream as they tightened around him, blood running down his cheeks, arms and legs.

"Theon Greyjoy. I've heard about you. Apparently a very enthusiastic partygoer. Unfortunately, the grownups have to speak now." She smiled sweetly at him and nodded at Jon. "If you wouldn't mind?"

Jon glanced at Robb, who nodded. "It's alright, Jon. The lady and I will be fine." He gave Robb one last skeptical look and grabbed a barely-conscious Theon. Two wings sprouted from his back and they flew away.

Robb turned back to the woman. "You are Margaery Tyrell, then?" She was certainly dressed like a Tyrell, green and gold skirts folded into each other beneath a tight fitting gown with an obscenely immodest neckline and embroidered roses on her sleeves.

Margaery curtsied. "At your service, my lord." 

Robb cut to the point. "You said 'soon-to-be mate.' I was under the impression that you had already married the prancing stag. I'll not have another man's leavings." He said warningly.

Margaery's eyes flashed orange for a second, several small thorns grew on her knuckles. She kept her temper under control, just. "Renly Baratheon was my friend, but never my love. I remain innocent, my lord." She spoke almost forlornly.

Robb bowed his head. "My apologies, that was not proper. We do not mince our words in the North." 

Margaery looked at him with an eyebrow raised. "Yes, I do believe that's why your father died. The story goes that he went to Cersei to declare his intentions to remove her from the Red Keep. If that is the case, he was a blind fool." 

Robb growled. "I am not my father." He let his fangs grow slightly.

"No, you aren't. The fact that you weren't thrown back north by Tywin Lannister and Balon Greyjoy proves that. What blood was your father of?"

Somewhat caught off guard by the change of subject, Robb answered. "Wolf and wolf. My grandmother was also my grandfather's cousin. And you are of rose and flaming tower? How does that work?"

Margaery raised an eyebrow, startled by his honesty. "It is not a power I will ever seek to use. I am the Rose of Highgarden, that is enough for me." She gestured to a tree. "Shall we sit?"

Robb watched her move to sit. She patted the ground beside her. "What's the matter, Lord Stark? Afraid I might prick you?" She grinned flirtatiously. 

Robb returned the grin. "Well, it is a valid concern." Nevertheless, he settled down beside her. He raised an eyebrow as she threaded her arm through his. Margaery giggled at the look he gave her. "Keep me warm, will you? I don't have any other wolf pelts." Robb returned the smile with a quiet chuckle. "Of course."

Margaery sat up slightly, suddenly serious. "And what about you?" 

Robb frowned, "What about me?"

"I consider myself the equal of any man. I'll not have another's leavings."

Robb's eyes widened slightly and spluttered as he realised what she meant. "Never."

Margaery looked at him skeptically. "Not once? Not ever? No sweet tavern girl or comely kitchen wench? I am not an idiot." 

Robb's eyes changed colour slightly. "Margaery, I won't insult your intelligence by denying I have had my designs on others and the fact that, were I not fighting a war, I would be wed already. Nor will I ever consider you anything but my equal. But I could not take another woman, because I know how bastards are treated. My brother, my oldest friend, spent twelve years belittled and shamed, not knowing who he was, who his parents were, and I know what it did to him. I swear by every god there ever was or will be, I will never be the cause of that suffering." He placed her fingers on his pulse. "Tell me I am lying."

Any doubts that Margaery might have had vanished as soon as he took her hand and pressed her fingers to his wrist. This man lived up to his legend, the legend she was infatuated with. She looked him in the eye, feeling his steady heartbeat. "I believe you." She whispered, her cheeks blushing slightly. A small rose blossomed in her hair and she sniffled. "Robb, I wasn't entirely honest with you. My father asked me to... Persuade you to make the pact, he sent me rather than me coming of my own accord. I agreed because I wanted to see what kind of man you are, to know you as a person and not just my husband."

Robb lifted a hand to stroke her cheek. "And what kind of man am I?" He looked genuinely fearful. His bright blue eyes almost pleading.

Margaery moved across and settled on his lap, resting her hands on his chest. "The kind that I could love." Her forehead rested against his and her nose brushed his. Her breath hitched when his hands settled on her hips. She toyed with his collar before making to unbutton her dress. 

Robb stopped her, holding her hands tightly. "You know I wouldn't. Let me meet your father and we can marry tonight."

Margaery nodded, staring into his eyes. She groaned softly as Robb tilted his head and leaned in to kiss her.

An hour later, they moved from the spot to leave in opposite directions. They shared one last embrace and walked away to speak their families.

**Later.**

"Lord Tyrell, I introduce Robb of the House Stark, first of his name, King in the North and the Trident." The steward called as Robb entered the tent with Theon and Jon by his side. 

The Fat Flower pushed himself out of his chair."Welcome, your grace! I trust your journey was not too taxing for you and...?" He gestured toward the three.

"Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy. If I had a small council, they would be my Hand and my Master of Ships respectively. They are my most trusted friends."

Lord Tyrell clapped his hands merrily as he sat. "Ah, yes! Friendship is a valuable commodity in these times, perhaps we might become close friends also. May I introduce my sons, Wilias and Garlan." The two men nodded their greetings.

Robb sat and drank some water. "As do I. You sent a message with intent to create an alliance. The floor is yours, my lord."

Tyrell puffed his chest out at the deference. "What happened to your father shocked us all deeply, Eddard Stark was one of the greatest and most merciful men the world has ever known and he was murdered. For that, we vowed that House Lannister would pay. We chose to honor his memory by carrying on the work he started, removing the illborn children of Cersei and Jaime Lannister from the Iron Throne--"

"Yet you joined Renly. Stannis was and is the rightful heir." Jon pointed out. 

"Stannis fled King's Landing and started making the accusations before the dust cleared. By the time we realised the truth of the matter, we were committed to Renly. Besides, there are reports of Stannis burning his own men at the stake for refusing to convert the Red Witch's heresy. Such a man brought ruin before, we would not allow history to repeat itself. Hence, we come to you. A fair and just ruler with godly blood and noble heritage."

_Never mind that the Tyrells fought for "such a man" twenty years ago._

Robb clasped his hands. "Very well, what do you propose?" 

Tyrell's eyes gleamed with victory. "A military and political alliance, sealed by marriage, between the North, the Riverlands and the Reach."

Robb leaned back as though he had not expected this. "Marriage... To me?" 

"Yes, your grace. My daughter, Margaery. She is a pure spirit, young, fertile and a great beauty to rival that of Cersei Lannister or your lady mother. She is quite taken with the stories of your exploits."

 _You have no idea, my lord._

"You would place your armies at my disposal? To fight and die alongside me and my men if need be? You would close the Roseroad to King's Landing and provide supplies to Riverrun and Winterfell?" 

"Indeed, your grace. We would be yours to command."

Robb spread his hands. "I would be a fool not to accept. I accept your terms. Might I be allowed to meet my betrothed in private?"

"But of course, my king. I will send for her." 

Wilias Tyrell leaned forward. "We would request that the marriage take place as soon as is possible, perhaps--"

"Tonight."

Lord Tyrell looked taken aback. "But, my king, surely a royal wedding--" 

Robb held up a hand. "I am a northerner, my lord. We do things differently. I would rather marry tonight, potentially have an heir and hold an official coronation at Riverrun where the assembled lords of the North, the Trident and the Reach will swear fealty to the queen."

That seemed to satisfy him. "Very well, your grace. I will leave you two alone."

Margaery entered after everyone else had left. "Hello, my wolf." She smiled sweetly and leaned against his chest.

Robb lifted her onto the table. "Hello, my rose."


	2. Chapter 2

Catelyn settled into her bath with a sigh, watching the water run down her legs before being pulled back up again. She exhaled and slipped beneath the surface. The water was warm, like her chamber, but it still felt more refreshing to her than the cool air breezing through the godswood in autumn. She was a Stark in name, a Tully by blood. She belonged in the water. It was like breathing clear air, her gils opening on her neck as she gulped greedily.

"Gods, Cat." Ned frowned as he removed his cloak. "You know I don't feel comfortable with you doing that." 

_Comfortable?!_ Catelyn sat up sharply. "I do not feel comfortable with you leaving and going to war, my lord husband. We must all make sacrifices, even small ones such as these." 

Ned smilled ruefully. "The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword, Cat. You know that." 

Catelyn snorted. "So you say. Sometimes I wonder whether they will carve your likeness onto your grave, or those words. Perhaps it will be easier to remember you by that. Besides, you need not worry. I am a fish. Fish cannot drown."

"If a dragon can burn, a fish can drown, my love. I have seen grown men, good men, hardened men, floating in the deep. I saw it at the Trident and I saw it at Pyke, I could not bear to see it here. Besides, you shouldn't give the children ideas. Arya is already entertaining notions of being a knight, I don't need her trying to swim the White Knife as well."

_Of course she is._ Catelyn clambered out and pulled a robe around herself. "I will speak to her. At least Robb can help talk sense into her." Her hand came up to cradle his face. She studied him for a moment. "There's something else on your mind."

Ned shook his head. "It's nothing important." Their eyes locked, a silent battle fought between them. Ned broke first. "I'm concerned about Jon." He admitted.

_Nothing important, then._ Catelyn sat on the bed and crossed her arms expectantly.

Ned rubbed his eyes and sat next to her. "Robb says he won't stop coughing but Luwin is adamant he isn't showing any other symptoms. I don't think he could have caught a chill, I'm worried it might be something serious. If this is a new illness, we should isolate the smallfolk from Winterfell until--" Catelyn took his hands. "My sweet, honourable, fretful husband. You shouldn't worry so. We should wait until we know for certain what it is that ails Jon. Come to bed with me." _And maybe the bastard will die._

"Fire!" A guard burst in breathlessly. "Lord Stark, there's a fire!"

Ned was on his feet before the man finished his sentence. "Where?"

"Jon Snow's chamber."

Ned paled and sprinted out of the door. 

_What has the bastard done now? If he thinks pretending to be ill is going to save him, he has another thing coming._ Catelyn pulled on a nightgown and walked briskly after her husband.

"Robb! Step away from there!" Ned roared as he approached the door to Jon's chambers. 

Robb ignored him, spraying torrents of water through the opening in an attempt to douse the flames. He was sweating badly and blood dripped from his nose. "Jon's still inside!" He sagged and keeled over, exhausted. 

"Take him to the maester." Ned looked into the inferno, trying to make out Jon. 

Catelyn approached slowly, in no hurry to come to the rescue. She rested a hand on Robb's forehead as he was carried away, her gaze rose and Ned looked into her eyes. _If you ever truly loved me, you would not make me do this._

This time he did not break. He just watched, the orange flames casting shadows on one side of his face. Catelyn sighed and let her skin soak, feeling her gown go damp. She stepped into the room, feeling the flames lick at her. Jon Snow lay in the middle of the room, struggling to get to his feet. He looked up at her, trying to speak, but curled up as another fit took him. Catelyn glanced at him without the slightest hint of pity. She gathered herself, bringing her hands to her chest and curling her fingers then flinging them out wide, sending an enormous wave of water across the room. Before the wave could flow out of the door, she drew it back into herself. The effort left her breathless and she remained still for a second, just a second. The next, she grabbed Jon by the throat.

_"What did you do?!"_ Catelyn snarled, tightening her grip. Jon held onto her wrist weakly. 

"Enough, Cat!" Ned stormed in. "Put the boy down." 

Catelyn responded by choking Jon even further. "I tolerated you and this _stain_ on my honour, on our house, for too long. I will not have him under my roof, if I don't have him killed for what he's done here."

"You will do no such thing." Ned growled and when she turned to face him again, it wasn't her husband's face she saw. It was the face of a wolf. "You forget where you are, you forget who I am. I am your lord, Catelyn. Put him down."

Catelyn glared for a moment and dropped Jon's limp form onto the floor. Ned rushed forward and embraced him. "I'm sorry, son. I'm so sorry." 

"I'll not suffer him here." Ned remained silent, unmoving.

As Catelyn made to leave the room, he spoke. "When Robb is strong enough, bring him to my study. He is my heir, he deserves to know the truth." 

Catelyn faltered. "What truth?" 

"The truth about Jon and his mother."


	3. Chapter 3

They exchanged their vows in the forest, before the largest tree. Margaery, ever the dramatic one, summoned a length of vine and tied her wrist to Robb's once she was wrapped in the Stark colours. The adoring look and small smile he gave her in response made her heart pound even more. She'd imagined the wedding would be spectacular, like the one thrown for her marriage to Renly. Yet the serenity and the calm felt so much more involved and personal. It felt more like a wedding of two lovers, which it was, rather than simply political. Margaery knew that infatuation was dangerous. _But I truly believe I love him._ She barely paid attention to the words being spoken, but then neither did Robb, and when the septon declared them man and wife, she pulled him down to her level to kiss him. They rode to the small keep where they would feast and spend the night hand in hand. The food was delicious, prepared by the finest cooks in Highgarden. While Margaery ate heartily and treated herself to a single cup of Arbor gold, Robb only drank water and ate slowly. 

"Is everything alright, my love?" She took his hand gently. Robb smiled and shook his head. 

"I fear these dishes are too fine for someone like me." 

Margaery laughed and kissed his cheek. "There is nobody like you, Robb Stark. You are the King in the North and you are my husband. Nobody else can claim that."

Robb grinned and pecked her lips. "That isn't what I meant."

"Oh, am I getting under your skin, _your grace?_ " 

Robb took her hands. "You were under my skin the moment we met, my queen. And I could have you flogged for insolence."

Margaery raised an eyebrow. "Is that how they treat wives in the North? Beating them if they toe a line? Perhaps I made a mistake after all... A very handsome and charming mistake, yes, but a mistake nonetheless."

Robb leaned over and whispered. "I wouldn't mind being your mistake, my love. I could be the most troublesome mistake you'll ever make." 

Margaery blushed and giggled. Before she could retort, someone cleared his throat.

"Your grace." Jon muttered. "The guests wish to proceed with the bedding." 

"No." Robb snapped. "This is my wedding, not a pantomime."

Jon smiled ruefully. "I believe that when you are king, the two are not far apart."

Robb grunted. "I suppose so." He stood and offered his hand to Margaery. "Shall we?"

Margaery grinned and took it. "Lead the way, your grace." She turned to address the hall. "His grace thanks you all for coming and I share his sentiments. However, it has been a long day and we must rest for the challenges to come. In the meantime, let the drinks flow and the music play!" A huge cheer erupted throughout the hall as well as a few whistles. Margaery resisted the urge to send another vine at Theon Greyjoy's smug countenance as they passed. 

They walked down the corridor and Margaery led them into a room with a bed laid out with wine and fruit on a small platter on the bedside table. Robb turned to lock the door behind them and cleared his throat awkwardly. "So..."

Margaery stood in the middle of the room with her back to him. The dim light hid the fact that she was flushing as much as he was. She reached behind her and placed his hand on her hip. The vines on her dress pulled the fabric apart gently, freeing her shoulders and upper back. Robb's breath felt hot on her neck and she felt something sharp nick at her skin. He bit down gently on her neck. Margaery mewled and convulsed, the vines snapping taut and ripping her gown off, leaving her bare from the waist upwards. Fire spread through her flesh, her skin suddenly almost scalding to the touch.

Margaery arched her back and backed into him, her bare back pressed against Robb's chest. His other hand slid around to her stomach, his fingers passing over her navel. Through the layers of fabric around her hips, she ground her arse slowly against him. Robb growled and the hand on her stomach immediately moved up and grasped her breast roughly. He squeezed and kneaded, it was harsh and painful and primal and she loved it. She gasped and panted and grunted, mouth opening and closing. His other hand slipped into her smallclothes and his fingers began to move, just as harsh and unrelenting. Maragery's vision had spots and she immediately felt like she would collapse. He rubbed at her slit and probed briefly with a finger.

She cried out and came hard around his hand, her form slumping against him for a moment. Margaery turned around and stuck her chest out, showing him her full, firm breasts, one still red from his grip. She bit her lip and looked at him with golden eyes. 

Robb's throat went completely dry, his hand still moist. He reached out with his other hand and she slapped it away. Sucking on his neck, she whispered in his ear. "Good things come to those who wait. First, I want you out of these clothes so I can suck your cock and then I want you to fuck me like your little wolf bitch." She looked up at his sharp teeth and yellow, wolfish eyes. After staring at her for a moment, he relaxed and his hands dropped to his sides.

"Good boy." Margaery pecked his lips, her tongue brushing against them. She pushed him into a chair and straddled him, shifting her weight directly onto Robb's arousal, earning a grunt of discomfort. She arched her back and he bit one of her breasts gently. Her hands began to unbutton his shirt, running fingers down his muscles appraisingly. Eventually, she twisted the tunic off of his arms and rested her hands on his chest, admiring him. She looked up at his eyes and the look he gave her made her want to finish again right there and then. She grinned and pulled his breeches and smallclothes off his legs. His hardness sprang out and into her hand. Robb's breathing hitched at the contact. She climbed off him and turned around, bending over and pushing her skirt down her legs, exposing her arse to him. Margaery stood and leaned over him, kissing him gently, while her hand reached down and wrapped around his cock. 

Robb growled as she began to pump her hand along him. His fingers twitched, yearning to reach out and touch her again. Margaery tugged at him, pulling him to his feet. She looked up at his face, her eyes glowing with mischief, before kissing him harshly on the mouth one more time before she moved down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm... That got very hot very quickly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is likely the smuttiest writing I've done so far (which is saying something), is it too much? If Margaery seems a bit too slutty or Robb seems a bit too rough, bear in mind that I envision the characters as slightly more evil and lustful than their book/show counterparts. But seriously, this is extremely smutty.

Margaery opened her eyes, blinking against the dawn light. _Perfect._

She looked down at Robb, snoring peacefully. Her gaze drifted from his handsome features to his broad shoulders to his big hands and muscled stomach. Further still, his lower half covered by the blankets. The bed was in disarray, sheets practically crushed and clothes strewn in a pile before the foot. Margaery brushed the covers aside and leaned up onto her elbow. He was already hard.

Just as she was about to take him in her mouth, she gasped as Robb's hand moved down and grabbed her arse, sliding a finger into her cunt. Her mouth fell open and she immediately felt another tongue rubbing against hers. She opened her eyes and gazed into his smiling yellowish blue ones. 

"Do I need to get used to having the most beautiful woman in the world in my bed every morning?" Robb murmured huskily.

"Fuck me again and you'll find out." She breathed in response. Robb nodded and bit her breast (making her scream in the process) before letting go and shifting position. Margaery waited until he had turned and his hands were on her hips before slipping from his grasp and standing from the bed. 

She moved to the wall, rested her palms against the stone and arched her back so that her arse stuck out. She looked back over her shoulder seductively with her golden eyes and wiggled her hips. 

That was all the encouragement Robb needed. "Using the wall now, my rose?" 

"We've used the floor, the chair and the bed already, lover. I wanted to give the wall a go. Plus," she backed onto him and felt his hardness between her buttocks. "I can show you _where_ I want you."

Robb was clearly taken aback by what she was demanding. "Margaery, I've heard that it can hurt, a lot. And it won't help get an heir." A vine wrapped around his cock.

"You've fucked my mouth and my cunt, Robb, and I loved it all, this shouldn't be different. Besides, you pumped enough seed into me to field a small army last night. I promise to stop you if it hurts too much." 

Robb didn't seen convinced. "I think we should try and get--" Margaery turned around and dropped to her knees. She applied a few layers of saliva to his cock, feeling him get even harder on her tongue. Robb hissed and unconciously thrust into her mouth a few times. 

By the time she and the vine came away, Robb's cock was glistening. Margaery rubbed him against her cunt for added measure and guided his head into her arse. "Ah." She sighed as she sank slowly down. 

"Gods." Robb whispered behind her. His fingers were like a vice, digging into her hips. 

"Does it feel good, your grace?" Margaery teased, "Do I please you?"

Robb grunted. "It would be so easy..." He muttered in her ear, thrusting gently but firmly. 

"More." She whispered. "More, more. Oh, shit." Her cursing only turned Robb on more and he obliged. One hand drifted down to her cunt and rubbed vigorously, the other flat against the stone wall as she backed into him.

Robb picked up the pace and slapped her arse, jolting her into submission like he was the one who suggested this. He bit her earlobe gently and kissed her neck.

"Am I your whore, Stark?" Margaery managed through the moans. "Am I your little bitch? Your mate?" 

"Of course not." Robb responded. "You are my queen." He gave a final, brutal thrust and came in her arse. The feeling and his words sent Margaery over the edge with a loud scream, her legs buckling, and she collapsed to the ground. Robb stayed inside her and held her up until he was on his knees with her. He stroked her stomach gently. She lifted herself off of him with a moan and rolled onto her back, still fondling her own chest.

"Was that to your liking, my queen?" Margaery chuckled breathlessly, sweat pouring down her body, giving her skin a bewitching shine.

"Gods, yes." She clasped his face, kissing him gently as though he hadn't just pounded her against a wall.

"Good." Robb licked her sensitive nipple. "Now I know how to keep you on a leash." He glanced out of the window. "I suppose we should get ready, the council wants to meet as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you thought the last chapter was hot...


End file.
